A life of poor love, or a rich future? 

It was his moment, and nothing could take this away from him. 

Gilgamesh had done it. His jump landed with a perfect triple axle spin. Gilgamesh lifted his head to the cheering audience, breathless from the adrenaline and torque force of the spin. 

All those hours of training had paid off. He basked in the moment of glory, his arms outstretched. His skates continued to carve a perfect semicircle on the ice until his fingertips met that of his skate partner and love of his life: Gabriella. 

Together, the duo completed a round on the ice to the thunderous applause of their fans at the Solympics try-outs. Their aerodynamic, skin-tight outfits were matched perfectly in bright blue with shimmery sparkles cascading down the back and a snowflake motif in front. Their routine had been a vision to behold, and one that won them the championship. As they bowed, their fingers clasped around one another’s, there was an electrifying jolt through their bodies. This was a bond that nothing could break. 

Gilgamesh and Gabriella: the iconic figure skating power couple. 

Gilgamesh took a deep breath as he intently studied Gabriella’s beautiful face. His eyes traced her forehead down to her wispy eyelashes, her cute dimples and full lips. Everything around the ice rink melted away: the cheers, the sound of the announcer, the people in the crowds. She was his everything. Gabriella was his present, and his future. 

“I’m so glad that you’re mine,” Gilgamesh whispered, looking into her eyes. 

She looked away, giggling. “Stop it, you’re being too extra.” 

“But it’s the truth,” Gilgamesh pulled her back to face him. 

Gabriella playfully smacked Gilgamesh in the face, tipping him backwards. Caught off-guard, Gilgamesh wiped out. As if he wasn’t an award-winning figure skater with spectacular moves on ice. He was completely spellbound by her. 

“Even now you can’t take a compliment,” Gilgamesh teased as he landed on his bum. 

Gabriella blushed and offered her hand to Gilgamesh for support to stand up. Gilgamesh took her hand, and pulled her down. 

They both sat on the ice, the cold creeping through their flimsy outfits. Facing each other, Gilgamesh tried again. 

“I mean it. You’re the only thing in my life that is truly mine.” 

Gabriella leaned in and kissed him tenderly. Then she abruptly leaned back and denied more, placing one finger on Gilgamesh’s lips to shush him. 

“You have no idea what you’re getting into, let me warn you,” she gave a coquettish smile, her voice low and sultry. 

“I’ll take my chances,” Gilgamesh responded. “Besides, you’ve got some competition.” 

Gabriella’s expression fell dark; she was pissed. “What do you mean by that?” 

Gilgamesh rapped the side of his ice skates. “These skates! They don’t show me attitude... unlike you. So for now, they’re winning!” 

Gabriella was stunned for a second. Then she pushed his face away with her palm playfully once again. 

Gilgamesh, expecting her signature move, resisted the push easily with a headbutt. He laughed and swept her up in his strong arms. He planted kisses on the top of her head and held her tightly in a warm embrace. Even against the cold of the ice rink, their magnetic attraction could have set the place aflame. 

*** 

Gilgamesh’s parents had expensive taste, and they knew how to flaunt it in the name of tradition. Their heritage house had been passed down for generations, with oddities collected from all over the world through cross-border trade. This was quite a feat, since multilateral trading institutions had broken down and it was now extremely difficult to obtain anything produced in a different country. The rare, prized items on display ranged from Xin tribal artwork to the antique colonial Celtian silverware that they dined on every single night. With their family’s underground connections in cross-border trade despite the ongoing wars and supply disruptions, exotic food items were also always turned into dishes for dinner. As always, an aperitivo was held in the drawing room with the vintage radio tuned to broadcast the latest news. 

“Celtia has announced that the selection process for the so-called God’s Tournament will begin next week. Hopefuls can sign up to participate at the Solympics Stadium. Listeners may recall that this year’s Solympics were recently cancelled due to this tournament and selection will remain suspended until further notice,” the radio announcer said stiffly. 

The butler rang the bell once to signal that dinner was ready. 

The table was laden with a sumptuous meal. Tonight’s delicacy was black pepper crab with a side of jackfruit. Delicious, as usual. Gilgamesh and his parents all chewed silently. As usual.

His father broke the silence. “How long are you going to keep this up? The Solympics are cancelled. It’s a dead end. What’s the point of continuing this little side gig of yours?” 

Gilgamesh continued eating and ignored him. His father was picking a fight, and Gilgamesh knew better than to engage in what was sure to lead to raised voices at a minimum, and broken expensive dinnerware at the most. 

His father was unsatisfied. 

“Are you listening? Look at me when I speak to you,” he ordered, slamming his palm on the table. The silverware jumped. 

“I love what I do,” Gilgamesh responded quietly.

“That’s not enough! I didn’t build an empire just so a brat like you can run it into the ground,” his father’s temper rose. “You’re a disgrace, avoiding your responsibility to this family and what we stand for.”

Gilgamesh snapped back, “Why don’t you have another son and place those expectations on him instead.” 

His father turned beet red in the face. He picked up his water glass and tossed its contents in Gilgamesh’s face. It dripped into his plate of crab legs. 

“You will speak to me with respect,” his father sputtered. “You have a duty to fulfill and a legacy to continue. I will not allow you to ruin this family with your foolish dream.” 

Gilgamesh composed himself after getting a rude soaking. “I told you, I don’t want to be a part of it. All I’m going to do is slowly run it into the ground, and you’ll see it all fall apart. Better that you keep your company and your goddamn money!” 

His mother spoke up finally. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to. He is your father. You need to understand this isn’t about you. You’re a member of this family and this privilege,” she gestured around the room at large, “Comes with a cost.” 

Gilgamesh could not stand her hypocrisy. Talk about being selfish, when she had been less than faithful. “Yeah, I know how you use your privilege. Have you told Father how you share it with other men that come here when he’s not around?” 

“Gilga!” his mother’s mouth fell open in shock. 

Gilgamesh pushed away his chair from the dinner table and got ready to stand up. “I’m done with this food and this conversation.” 

His father raised his voice. 

“You will be done when I say you’re done.” 

Gilgamesh rolled his eyes and began to leave. But in a flash it was all over. The table flipped in slow motion: the dishes sliding off the table and the seafood dish in a mess all over the carpet. Once upon a time, Gilgamesh would have winced; he knew just how expensive everything was. It was a luxury that few could afford, and they were throwing it away for an argument that happened almost every week. But now, he kept his face steeled straight and unfeeling. Deep inside, he had already extracted himself from his overbearing parents and was an independent individual. This would be their loss, not his. He had Gabriella, and that was all he needed. 

His father spotted the lack of remorse on Gilgamesh’s face. “When did your eyes start looking at me with such contempt?” he spat. 

“It’s the girl, isn’t it!” he snarled. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger. Don’t you see what she really wants?” 

Triggered, Gilgamesh instinctively balled his hands into fists in anger to defend Gabriella’s intention. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” his father taunted. “Go ahead, punch me if you dare!” 

“Stop!” Gilgamesh’s mother jumped in between the two men. “Gilgamesh, leave. Now!” 

Gilgamesh relaxed his fists and stormed out. 

“That’s what I thought,” his father said as Gilgamesh slinked off. “You don’t have it in you.” 

He turned to his wife. “What did he mean by other men?”